


Love Is... Loud

by seriousfic



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Gay Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Threesome - F/F/F, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Grounder party is a pretty good place to finger your girlfriend, unless you’re the guest of honor. Then you have to be all subtle about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

As Lexa dressed, the flickering candlelight dancing her shadow across the tent’s walls in a manner almost more alluring that the shaded bronze body going back into hiding, Clarke luxuriated in her nudity. There wasn’t much right in her life. She was determined to enjoy what she’d found with Lexa. Ignore all the things that didn’t make sense. Embrace all the things that felt right.

 

She reached out, fingers alighting on the decorative carvings marking the vambrace that laid on the ground. It was usually quite hard to see, Lexa’s arms either locked at her sides or moving in clear, sweeping gestures. Now Clarke marveled at the intricacy that had gone into the carving. The determination the artisans had shown in honoring their Commander.

 

Lexa took hold of the vambrace, ready to put it on, and Clarke playfully hung on. Lexa tugged on it for a moment, then with a sharp grunt of effort, she ripped it out of Clarke’s hands.

 

“You cannot do that,” she said simply, teeth clenching, then relaxing.

 

“Why? Are those the sacred armor pieces of Morlock, passed down from generation to generation…”

 

“They are the property of the heda,” Lexa said, patience growing thin. “The property of the heda is beyond sacrosanct. You cannot take liberties!”

 

Clarke watched silently as Lexa strapped the vambrace on. She had to think about whether pouting would annoy Lexa or earn her some sympathy points. She decided not to chance it.

 

“You’re in an awful hurry,” she observed instead. “One you didn’t seem to be in last night.”

 

“That was last night. If I am short with you, it is not because I am angry. It is merely because—“ Lexa looked to be having trouble adjusting her vambrace. She gave up on it for the moment, facing Clarke instead. “The role of the Commander does not come as naturally to me as you might think. I am not without weakness; I simply have to suppress it. I… school myself in the ways of a good leader before I present myself to my troops. I prepare myself so that their eyes do not find weakness when it is mine alone.”

 

“You put your game face on.”

 

Lexa nodded and said a phrase in her own language that Clarke didn’t yet know. It actually sounded like ‘game face’ and Clarke guessed it meant the same thing. An actual bit of pidgin English that had survived all the years. Clarke wanted to laugh.

 

“Well,” she said, “your secret’s safe with me.”

 

“It’s not,” Lexa insisted. “The way you treat me in the privacy of this tent is not the way you must treat me outside it.”

 

“No kissing for the boss, huh?”

 

“Not quite. I am the Commander. I am subordinate to no one. If you were known as my mate, you would be expected to be… submissive to me. In all things.”

 

Clarke blinked. “That’s not what I seem to recall making you come this morning…”

 

Lexa closed her eyes slowly, opened them slowly. Grounders didn’t blush, but if they did, that would be it. “And that is why I have taken no mate—officially. As a fellow leader, you can be respected. As a lover, you would be my property. That is our way.”

 

Clarke raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound so bad…”

 

“I would not make it so. But you could not lead your people and be mine at the same time. A new representative of the Sky People would have to be sent.” Lexa suddenly smiled. “And I just finished training the old one,” she added wryly.

 

Clarke ignored the jibe. “So no handholding? No hugs?”

 

“Not in front of my people.” Lexa returned her attention to the vambrace. It fit in smoothly now with the rest of her armor. “Don’t feel any need to keep this a secret. It is expected that I may conquer someone as comely as you.”

 

“Conquer?”

 

“Just do not lay claim to me and do not imply claim on yourself.”

 

“So I’m a one night stand?”

 

“Who would believe you could take more than one night?”

 

***

 

It was a day of celebration for the Grounders. The week before had been marked with great hunts, cooking, distilling, gifts back and forth to the Sky People to add to the bounty. Now the feast was prepared. On an elevated mound, the high table of the Grounders seated Lexa in the middle, with Clarke at her right hand and the best warriors of the Battle of Mount Weather flanking them.

 

Clarke let Lexa give the speech—something crisp and clean about how awesome they were, that flowed from her people’s language to English like a river turning into whitewater rapids. Finally, Lexa sat back down. The feast began. Wine, women, and song—it all flowed. The Grounders gorged themselves on the meat while it was still warm from the fire. Clarke just relished a brief moment going by without anyone expecting anything of her. She felt free.

 

Free to do anything except touch her girlfriend in public.

 

Well, be seen touching her girlfriend in public.

 

The other warriors at the table only had eyes for their plates. Clarke looked around. Something like a mosh pit—Grounder dancing—had started on the other side of the table, at the bottom of the mound. Everything was loud, fast, chaotic.

 

Clarke reached over and touched Lexa’s thigh with her left hand.

 

Lexa stiffened instantly. “What is your intent?”

 

“Guess,” Clarke shot back, reaching under Lexa’s skirts. The table hid her hand, her expression hid everything else. Casually, she cupped Lexa’s groin through trousers that were thin and soft to the touch. Had to be, when they didn’t have underwear.

 

“I… you…”

 

“Relax.” With her other hand, Clarke picked up a fork and speared a section of her beef. “It wouldn’t do for the Commander to be seen losing her composure.”

 

Lexa pressed her lips together in a firm line as Clarke’s hand crept up to the waist of her hands, then teasing at the hard muscle of her belly—pressing back downward, under her trousers, finding a lengthy scar, then the hair of Lexa’s crotch. There was a warmth to it that was completely surprisingly. Clarke ran her fingers through it as she brought the beef to her mouth, bit, chewed.

 

Lexa’s face was locked in blankness, even as a server brought a pitcher of wine to their section of the table. He offered.

 

“Oh, I’d love some wine!” Clarke enthused, her free hand picking up her goblet and offering it. “Isn’t it nice, just letting the wine _flow?”_

Lexa nodded stiffly. She could feel Clarke exploring her cunt. Knew where she was going, the light caress starting at her clit and moving down over her sex, callused fingers giving her contact but no pressure, they felt so soft…

 

“Meat, Commander?” Clarke was passing a tray of meat to her, a freshly cooked chicken. She set it down before Lexa. “Fresh meat—on the Ark, all our meat was dry and tasteless. Here it’s still tender. There’s nothing like a juicy thigh, is there, Lexa?”

 

“Fuck you,” Lexa whispered under her breath. “I’ll excuse myself, then you can follow me into the woods within a few minutes and we’ll—“

 

“No. We’re doing this right here,” Clarke said through a frozen smile. “Unless you want me to stop.”

 

Her fingers stopped. Right at the bottom of Lexa’s cunt. Just as she was starting to press a little harder.

 

Lexa held in a sigh as a wave of desire all but consumed her. Clarke could feel her rigid self-control cracking. Lexa thrust her hips at Clarke’s soft, caressing fingers, imprisoning them inside herself.

 

Clarke cracked a grin as Lexa tried to fuck herself on Clarke’s hand while not giving away that was moving at all to anyone in the vicinity. She tapped her middle finger on Lexa’s wetness, bringing the Commander to a shuddering stop. Lexa froze, eyes shut, as Clarke played at entering her.

 

“We’re allies,” Clarke said, her smile not so frozen anymore. “Anything you want, you just have to ask for.”

 

Lexa forced herself still, quieting the sway of her body as she girded herself with her hands on the edge of the table. “Please…” she muttered, nearly inaudible.

 

“Please what? You know I’d give anything to the Commander…”

 

Lexa leaned over until her lips brushed against Clarke’s ear. “Please fuck me, Clarke.”

 

Clarke reached inside Lexa, three fingers at a time, Lexa’s hips twitching into the contact. When Clarke touched her spot, she seemed to go into a trance, her lips hanging open just under her sharp teeth, almost slavering like a feral jungle creature. Her eyes gleaming wickedly as Clarke stroked her again, again, again; her proud breasts heaving as she drew in a great draught of air between the pleasures Clarke brought her. Clarke knew she was probably spraining her own wrist, but she went faster and faster and faster, feeling Lexa grow warm against her palm, wet and warm, her thighs rubbing together as if trying to trap Clarke’s fingers inside her, feeling how long they were and how firm they were and how fast they were.

 

Then Clarke grinded the heel of her hand into Lexa’s clit.

 

Lexa gripped the edge of the table so tightly it nearly drew blood where it cut into her palms. She shook, once, then set her jaw, struggling not to visibly spasm as everything below her waist became wetness and heat and what Clarke was doing to her.

 

Lexa collapsed back into her chair, head tilted back, eyes closed, breath coming in heavy gulps. She was dead to the world. It was all she could do not to smile.

 

“Commander? Are you well?” Indra asked from the other side of Clarke.

 

“She’s fine,” Clarke said. “Just a little headache. I’ve already given her some medicine for it.”

 

Indra watched Lexa blink herself back to awareness. “Perhaps you should give her her medicine somewhere more private.”

 

“Perhaps,” Clarke said, and reached for a bowl of berries nearby.

 

She used her left hand. Moaned gently as she ate them. Licking her fingers when she was done.

 

“This is a great feast,” she said. “ _Everything_ tastes so good.”

 

Lexa closed her eyes slowly. Opened them slowly.

 

***

 

“Clarke, you can’t just… pleasure me like that,” Lexa said as they walked away from the table, the festivities over, many of the Grounders collapsed where they had stood to sleep off the night’s events.

 

Clarke walked next to her, occasionally pulling at the long hem of Lexa’s jacket to throw her off-balance. “I think I can do anything I want when it makes you come that hard.”

 

Lexa stopped to glare at her. “So long as you know the consequences your actions will draw.”

 

Clarke pulled on her hem again, drawing Lexa right next to her. “Yeah? And what's that?”

 

“A repeat performance,” Lexa said, dissolving into a rare smile.

 

Clarke was just about to kiss her when Abby caught her eye from about twenty feet away, in the middle of a chat with Octavia. Her mother just shook her head. Maybe they should’ve gone into the woods, Clarke thought, blushing and looking away.

 

“What’s wrong?” Lexa asked, though she somewhat smugly relished Clarke’s blush. It was good to know how much better she was at limiting her body’s reaction than Clarke was.

 

Clarke sensed her thinking. “Yeah, laugh it up, you’re not that great at keeping it on the downlow. _My mom_ knows about us.”

 

Lexa just laughed. Clarke smiled at her before she punched her in the arm.

 

“Guess it does save me the trouble of telling her.”

 

“That’s not what I was laughing at.” Lexa leaned into Clarke’s face, fixing Clarke with the hardened stare that meant she was about to kill someone—or, if it was directed at Clarke, meant she was in for a wild night. “We’re going to my tent now, where we will have our repeat performance. And once you feel my touch upon your body, the whole camp will know ‘about us’.”

 

“Like you’re the only one who can keep a poker face?”

 

Lexa frowned. “Whose face do you want to poke? Do you want me to poke her face?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, just a brisk note. Thank you for all the kind reviews you've left, and if you're really enjoying my stories and would like to read more, I have a Patreon set up: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=345782. It features some exclusive content, looks at the creative process behind both my fics and my upcoming novel, comment sections where you can suggest what you'd like to see in the future, that sort of thing. So if you have some money left over after your booze and pills expenses--I know, I know, I rarely do either--I'm right there.

Clarke had just stepped into the tent when Lexa hit her, shoving her forward onto her hands and knees, then dropping beside her, putting a hand to the back of her neck and shoving her face into the dirt. “Fucking me at the grand table in the middle of a feast-day?”

 

“You didn’t seem so torn up about it at the time…” Clarke reasoned.

 

Lexa gave her an extra little push into the dirt. Clarke had a feeling this wouldn’t be one of their nights together where they held hands. Or made eye contact.

 

Moving behind Clarke, Lexa wrenched her pants down her legs. “Now it’s my turn. And I’m going to make you scream so loud the entire camp will know I’ve deigned to give you pleasure.”

 

Clarke smiled up at her. “Bring it on.”

 

Lexa ripped Clarke’s panties down. “First, you have to be punished. I’m told that on the Ark, bad little girls received slaps on their bottom to teach them. You were a very bad little girl, Clarke.”

 

Lexa stared at Clarke’s ass a moment, just enjoying the sight of her bubble butt in its natural state. It was a shame Clarke had been so naughty. Lexa would quite enjoy just playing with it for an hour or two as she kissed Clarke, as she sucked her breasts, or as they just curled up together.

 

But, judging from the way Clarke was wiggling it from side to side, Clarke was looking forward to Lexa’s revenge as much as the Commander was.

 

Clarke squeaked as an incredibly sharp slap landed on her ass, nearly jogging her to the side. Another came the opposite way, sending a ripple through her supple cheeks; then Lexa put one steadying arm around Clarke’s slender waist and used the other to deliver a barrage of stinging spanks to Clarke’s ass, relentlessly changing its color from white to red. Clarke squealed as every inch of her ass was worked over, all of it transformed into an aching, throbbing mass.

 

But more than that, she felt the pain burning in her cunt. Lexa had been right to spank her. It was turning Clarke on, having Lexa treat her like this, take all the authority, all the power, and leave Clarke to only enjoy it. She could barely even feel the spanks now, just her sex getting hotter and hotter, her breath whipping out of her in heated gasps, Lexa’s arm holding her as her punishment continued.

 

Then Clarke felt Lexa’s hand whipping low, toward her cunt, and she whimpered as it stopped just short. Instead, Lexa felt at her groin, hand coming away wet and warm. She caressed Clarke’s burning ass as she spoke. “So wet. Do you like being punished as much as you like being bad? That must work out well for you.”

 

“Please, Lexa—my pussy…”

 

“What about it?” Lexa insisted, wetting her index finger in her mouth.

 

Clarke purred, “It needs you so bad.”

 

“But I don’t want your pussy. I’m bored by it. I want something else.”

 

And Lexa thrust her finger into Clarke’s anus, Clarke trying desperately not to scream as she moved her ass away from the sudden penetration, but Lexa followed her, thrusting in hard, even viciously, making sure her finger was enclosed in the warm grip of her ass. Clarke gave in, held still as Lexa pushed all the way in, right to the palm of her hand, the muscles of Clarke’s ass clenching shut but unable to expel her.

 

Clarke’s legs were trembling. “Oh God… it hurts… feels like you’re in my stomach…”

 

“Had enough?” Lexa demanded, through the hand still around Clarke’s body stroked at her stomach, asking if she truly wanted to stop.

 

“No… it feels good…” Clarke smiled shakily. “It feels _so_ good…”

 

Lexa twisted her finger slowly to the right, slowly to the left. Clarke’s mouth fell open, her eyes wide as she tried to process what she was feeling, but not a peep came from her. Lexa scowled in disappointment. She meant to keep her promise. Perhaps her people could not know of her feelings for Clarke, but they would damn sure know that Clarke was hers. As would the girl herself…

 

Clarke’s muscles tightened, relaxed, Lexa’s finger now rolling inside her free and easy. Lexa began to push it in and out, dragging it almost to the ring of Clarke’s anus, then thrusting it back in. That got Lexa a groan.

 

“Fuck me!” Clarke whispered, like that low voice was all her body could manage. She tried to rub her swollen clit against Lexa’s dangling fingers. “Fuck me before I burn up!”

 

“Why should I?” Lexa asked.

 

Clarke forced her head to rise, staring over her shoulder. “Because I’m yours. Yours to use. Yours to please. All yours.”

 

Lexa pulled her finger out and for a moment it seemed like Clarke would collapse. Lexa put her hands under Clarke’s asscheeks—all that mattered was that they stayed high up and spread open for Lexa’s use. Almost obediently, Clarke put her face to the ground and jutted her ass into the air.

 

Lexa pulled at her cheeks, spreading them far apart, smiled at how open her anus was. Her smile moved forward, into Clarke’s ass, where a stiff tongue jabbed inside Clarke. Clarke felt clutching spasms all through her body, echoing her sphincter trying to close around Lexa’s tongue. She cried out, straining her ass into Lexa’s face.

 

“Yes!” Clarke moaned, no longer caring much if anyone heard them, if everyone heard them. “Lick my ass—oh God—that finger almost ripped my ass apart, now lick it and make it feel better—make me feel good—“

 

Lexa’s chin was jammed against Clarke’s groin, her nose pushed flat so she could go as far into Clarke as she could. She slashed her tongue around, Clarke clawing at the floor in pleasure, like the tongue was a whip Lexa was admonishing her with.

 

Lexa stopped momentarily, pulling out to kiss at Clarke’s still-sore ass, then darting her tongue back between Clarke’s cheeks. Clarke moaned outrageously—she steadied her head and shoulders on the ground as she waggled her ass in Lexa’s face. Lexa was ravenous, even slapping at Clarke’s ass as she ate it. Clarke closed her eyes. She couldn’t understand how Lexa’s licking could be so cool and soothing, yet make her feel so hot—

 

Lexa felt Clarke’s convulsions on her tongue, the bloom of an orgasm beginning, and she dipped down to lick at Clarke’s dripping cunt. Clarke blew into her first orgasm of the night. Her mouth was wide open.

 

Lexa had her scream.

 

Afterward, Lexa let her drop to the ground.

 

“I think… you made your point…” Clarke said breathlessly.

 

Lexa shook her head. “That was only one finger.”

 

***

 

Abby saw Clarke the next morning. She was in Camp Jaha’s drug locker. There was ointment in her hand.

 

“I fell off a horse,” Clarke said.

 

Their eyes met. Clarke blushed. Abby sighed.

 

She took the ointment from Clarke, putting it back, pulling out another one. “This will do a better job.”

 

Clarke nodded. It was possible she’d never felt more awkward than the way she did with Abby looking at her now. After what seemed like an eternity, she thought to mutter a thanks. _You can leave, idiot,_ a voice screamed in her head, and she turned to go.

 

“Here.” Abby handed her something. The name on the jar was long and had a lot of consonants. “So you won’t need ointment next time.”

 

Clarke laughed uneasily. “Will it help me stay on my horse?”

 

Abby looked away. “Maybe it’ll help you sit down sometime this month.”

 

 _Now_ Clarke left.

 

She had to see Raven. Together, maybe they could find a way to make Lexa pay for making her associate her mother with _lube_.


	3. Chapter 3

Get tortured once or twice, you get paranoid. So when Raven heard someone rustling around in her workshop, she didn't take chances. She pulled a knife, then she pulled a gun, then she went in.

 

If Wick wanted a girl he could surprise with chocolate and casual nudity, he should've dated someone else.

 

She threw open the door and there was Clarke, turning guiltily to face her.

 

"Whare are you doing?"

 

"Nothing! Just looking for--stuff--for a project."

 

"What project?"

 

"Just a--personal... project..."

 

Raven raised an eyebrow. "You wanna just quit bullshitting me or try and be more vague?"

 

Clarke pressed her hands together, notching her fingertips under her nose. "I just need something that would--vibrate."

 

"Like a knife?"

 

"No--"

 

"A bullet? A vibrating bullet, and once you shoot someone with it--"

 

"No."

 

"It keeps vibrating inside them and all this blood just shoots out everywhere--"

 

 **"No.** A personal... vibrating.”

 

"Oh, like an electric toothbrush?"

 

Clarke threw down her hands with a sigh. "Now you're just messing with me."

 

"Yeah. S'cool, Clarkie wants a massager. Kinda thought the Commander would have that covered..."

 

"It's for--I wanna use it with Lexa."

 

Raven's eyebrows peaked. "Yeah, that makes sense. Leading the Grounders, probably gives her a lot of tension."

 

"What?"

 

"To need a massager. You know--to massage her back? Wait--were you going to use it on her vagina?"

 

Clarke was horrorstruck for a good half a minute before Raven cracked a grin. "You _bitch!"_

Raven was smiling like this was her new favorite day, "I couldn't resist. So, super-serious, what are we talking about here? External or internal? Vaginal or anal? You want a clitoral stimulator or will you be doing that yourself? And are you going to use this with beads..."

 

"Whoa, whoa!" Clarke held her hands up. "Can we lean a bit closer to back massagers?"

 

Raven held up some fingers. "New boytoy, we're both mechanics--you get in a certain headspace, you know?"

 

"Okay."

 

"Wick's surprisingly open. In more ways than one."

 

"I got it."

 

"I've never felt like more of a mechanic, or more of a woman, than building a device specifically to tickle a prostate."

 

"Alright! I'm happy for you! Let's get coffee sometime and we can go over this, but for now, I just need a solid, entry-level, beginner's... massager."

 

Raven grinned sharply. "How about a pair of vibrating panties?"

 

"There are panties that vibrate?" Clarke gaped.

 

"Exactly my reaction when I read about them in some old porn book. Took me four months to make my own, but once I did, made those long, boring space-walks a lot less boring." Raven paused. "Lexa does wear panties, right?"

 

"Lexa won't be wearing them."

 

***

 

A few days later, and a few hundred threats on Clarke's part if Raven should tell anyone, it was ready. Now Clarke just needed someone to wear them.

 

"Octavia of the Tree People!" she called, surprising Bellamy's sister out of admiring her sword.

 

"Clarke!" Octavia replied, giving her a grin that barely fit with her intimidating warpaint.

 

Clarke wondered if she could talk Octavia into leaving it on...

 

"You've really impressed the Commander lately. And me. Your training, the raid on Mount Weather, the hunts--" Clarke gave Octavia her sunniest smile. "You're a real badass."

 

Octavia shrugged happily. "I'm just doing my best."

 

"I know how you admire Lexa. You respect her, you want to please her..."

 

Octavia's face suddenly fell. "We haven't--done anything, I swear, I would never..."

 

"I'm not saying you have," Clarke assured her. "Well--not yet. Like I said, you want to please her. And I think you want to please me too."

 

"I do. You're a great leader, Clarke, I would do anything for you."

 

"But what do you want to do?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"You know Lexa and I--we've gotten closer lately."

 

"Yeah..." Octavia nodded slowly. "You look at each other and--it's just really cute. I wish someone would look at me like that. Someone who's not currently... crazy addicted to drugs."

 

"Mmmm...." Clarke put a hand on her shoulder. "It wasn't too long ago that Lexa honored me by allowing me to join her in a hunt. Now, let's say I honor you. Join us in our tent tonight. You. Me. Lexa."

 

Octavia pinched her lip between her teeth. It ran slowly out of her mouth. "Just watching?"

 

"Not if you want to do more."

 

Octavia's look was answer enough.

 

Clarke reached into her pocket. "There is a bit of a dress code, though..."


	4. Chapter 4

_I wonder if I looked like that the first time,_ Clarke thought to herself. Probably not. She’d felt that way, all eagerness, anticipation, things twisting in her stomach—bitter but not unpleasant. But she hadn’t shown it. She’d teased, she’d taunted, and Lexa had met her as an equal. But that wasn’t Octavia’s place. They were priestesses, she was the sacrifice, and she couldn’t wait for even more acceptance into this community. More validation of her place on the ground.

 

Clarke sat on the throne. Lexa had long since grown used to the impishness of that, and besides, she would only be watching. Lexa would be on her feet. At least, at first. The Commander stalked Octavia, pacing in front of her. She looked from Octavia’s nervous need to Clarke’s slow, certain hunger. She seized Octavia from behind and for all Octavia had learned, Lexa still moved like lightning, grasping her before she knew and groping her breast, feeling her heart battering against it from the inside. Lexa idly entertained herself with Octavia’s nipple as she looked to Clarke.

 

"I was watching you from the first day you arrived, Clarke. I saw the lust in your eyes when she disrobed to nearly nothing. Soon, you will show me what you were thinking of doing to her. But first, I'll use her to show you all the things I would do to you if I didn't love you so much. The rough things. The dirty things..."

 

Octavia was breathing so hard, Clarke thought she was making the fire in the tent’s brazier crackle louder. Lexa released her breast. Ran her hand down Octavia’s body. Down into her trousers. “In the old times, a heda often could not take a lover with trust. Even the closest of supplicants could be dangerous. So, to prove their dutifulness to their heda, their hands were bound. They earned the right to share their Commander’s bed through submission. Are you willing to submit, Octavia? Do you wish to share my bed, as Clarke does?”

 

“Yes,” Octavia breathed. Tears were wet in her eyes.

 

Lexa reached into one of her many pockets, producing a rusted relic—handcuffs. She opened them. “Undress for us. Show us your offering.”

 

Octavia was obedient to a fault. Where before, she would hesitate in taking off the armor she had fought so hard to earn, now she ripped it away gladly. Lexa’s eyes glowed blackly in her dark make-up, regarding the pale flesh that emerged into the firelight. Still lightened by the Ark, even after all this time. Between Grounders and the Mountainmen, Octavia hadn’t had much time to tan.

 

Lexa made a note to herself to take Clarke, and Octavia, if she pleased them, to one of her sacred places. To let them walk naked with her in the sun. Feel the languor of its long, warm kiss.

 

Octavia was naked, all but the panties Clarke had explained to Lexa. Lexa looked to Clarke. Clarke, of course, approved. A curt gesture and Octavia preceded Lexa to the bedroll of furs, where she laid down willingly. Lexa kicked the pillow aside, revealing the post staked deep into the ground. At its head, a ring had been forged. Wide enough for Lexa to fit one bracelet of the handcuffs through, so that when she clapped both onto Octavia’s wrists, her arms were trapped above her head. Octavia obediently tested them, finding the bonds taut and strong.

 

Clarke was touching herself now. It was only Lexa’s commitment to duty, to serving even the newest of her subjects, that kept her eyes returning to Octavia. She knelt down over Octavia, her feet, playing her fingers over Octavia’s toes. She still painted her toenails when she had time and, like with Clarke, Lexa found the little splotches of pink endlessly captivating. Or magenta, in Clarke’s case.

 

Clarke could’ve laughed, watching Lexa play with them, massage Octavia’s feet, kiss up the arch. It wasn’t just the toenails, it was soft, uncallused feet from a life of sitting down, lying down, no walking because there was nowhere to walk to, well-made shoes to walk around in anyway, well-made floors to walk around on, socks, _pedicures._

Lexa sucked on Octavia’s big toe, succeeding in making her moan, as her hands stole up a smooth, shaven calf. Fingers flicking just behind and below Octavia’s knee. Octavia’s other leg slid away, opening up for Lexa, and the Commander leaned forward. The furs of her chestpiece brushed against Octavia’s leg and Octavia imagined her nipple underneath. She wondered if it was as hard as hers was. As hot as she was.

 

She heard the click of Clarke toggling a remote and her body was buzzing, her cunt kicking up against something shaking but that wasn’t there, just a phantom tingle that pressed inside her and boiled her blood and suddenly was gone.

 

“That was setting one,” Clarke said

 

Lexa kept leaning in. Point of her chin staking into Octavia’s belly, not on her navel, not on her groin. Breasts against Octavia’s thighs, the fur but also the flesh itself, pressing softly in. Octavia strained her arms, the metal links of her prison grinding against her wrists, proof that she was Lexa’s, that she would be pleasured and used because her heda had said tonight, that was the purpose of her. A little cry came through her lips. Grounders didn’t beg, but Octavia thought the Sky People part of her was _pleading._

Lexa turned her face down, finally looking away from Clarke’s busy hand, and breathed across Octavia’s belly. It tickled, but Octavia didn’t laugh. She grinned, her stomach flexing, new muscle straining for Lexa’s lips. Lexa gave them to her. Secure in their chains, Octavia’s fingers clenched and unclenched.

 

When Clarke joined in, it was with her hand atop Lexa’s head, not a sexual touch, but an intimate one, and one Lexa would never have allowed from someone else. Fingers piling into the careful braids of her dark hair, Lexa’s eyes darting upward as her lips seemed to grow ever so slightly hotter against Octavia’s skin. Octavia wondered if her scalp felt hot to Clarke’s touch.

 

“I thought you were watching,” Lexa said, her words warm and moist in Octavia’s belly button. “I wanted you to enjoy what you saw.”

 

“I finished enjoying it,” Clarke said. Octavia suddenly thought that the fingers in Lexa’s hair might be _wet._ “Now I want to enjoy you.”

 

“My people first,” Lexa said, Clarke pushing with her hand, Lexa’s lips still on Octavia’s belly but moving downward, warmer, closer.

 

“I’ll enjoy that too,” Clarke said. She pressed the remote again.

 

Octavia felt her cunt shaking apart and Lexa’s tongue skating through her pubic hairs and a bone-deep vibration that seemed almost inside her and Lexa licking around and around her slit, what her panties didn’t cover, not where she _needed,_ and Octavia struggled against the bonds and escaped into the earthquake rolling into her sex and she was the Grounders’, she was Lexa’s, she was Clarke’s, she had never been more free because she had the choice to submit to this and she hadn’t been _afraid_ and now she was a slave to it, a toy of it, and all she had to do with what was happening to her was love it.

 

Clarke turned the vibrations off before they started to hurt. Octavia thought she wouldn’t mind that. Not too much.

 

It was Clarke’s turn with her now, but Octavia wasn’t exactly the most engaged partner. “Back when I fantasized about her,” Clarke said, “her eyes weren’t rolling back in her head quite so soon.”

 

Lexa looked up at her. Octavia’s wetness was smeared across her jaw. She rubbed it upward, into the make-up that coated her eyes, and rubbed until a streak of black connected eyes and mouth. “Then show me… what you wanted to do to her. Treat me as if I were her. Not the Commander. Simply a girl who has unveiled herself before you.”

 

Clarke grinned readily. 


	5. Chapter 5

Now came the part Octavia wasn’t sure about. After some seventeen years of living under a floor, she didn’t much like just _watching._ She wanted to be a part of things, part of the ecosystem, involved, flowing. It was what she liked about the ground, having a mark to put, and what she liked about being the Grounder, having a place and orders and training. Getting scars and leaving them, eating animals and plants and one day she’d be lowered into the ground and the plants would eat her and the animals would eat them, and then she’d be part of it forever. She couldn’t just _watch._

But, tied to the stake, she got to see Lexa and Clarke as they were with each other, an intimacy that they just couldn’t have with an interloper. A warmth so strong she could bask in it. They undressed each other, Lexa’s fingers knowing Clarke’s Sky People clothes, Clarke not even looking as she disassembled Lexa’s hides and armor. Lexa’s legs were bare, shaven, and Octavia immediately pictured Clarke doing that for her. The thought burned in her, sizzled through her brain and straight down to her cunt. Christ, she’d have to let Lincoln do it for her someday…

 

“You have to be in control to be a leader,” Lexa said suddenly, Clarke smiling wryly as her words nudged some memory warm as a hot stove. “You have to brook no dissent, suffer no fools. Your followers must want to please you at all times.”

 

Lexa blurred forward, hands outstretched for Clarke’s throat, but Clarke dodged her like a matador with a bull, swiping her arm in passing, bending it behind her to try to get her into a hold. Lexa spun around, circling her caught arm over her head to face Clarke once more, bull-rush her again, but Clarke dropped, tripped Lexa, muscled on top of her to hold her down.

 

“Sounds like a lot of hard work. How about you try being underneath for once?"

 

Octavia wouldn’t know it, how a few simple words from Clarke could make the Commander blush so much she could see it even through the war paint. She heard the tiny click of the remote, felt some subconscious setting where it just _purred_ against her sex, looking for her clit.

 

“Love is weakness,” Lexa said, straining against Clarke’s hold but not too hard. “You have to stay... in control...”

 

Clarke slowly lowered herself to Lexa’s tensing face—lips clenching into a kiss. ”I feel in control, Lexa. Don't you?”

 

Clarke turned the remote higher and higher, making Octavia burn as hot as she was.

 

Those shorn legs tangled together, Clarke covering Lexa’s mouth with her own, faces rubbing together as they squirmed thigh to tight and sex to sex, taints of Lexa’s warpaint marking Clarke’s beauty like conquered territory. Clarke sucked at Lexa’s bottom lip like it was all sweetness and excitement, not the lowest part of a warrior’s mask, and their feverish kisses burned hotter, their touches lingered longer.

 

Lexa’s hands roamed to Clarke’s ass, made thick and firm by Ark life, and she squeezed it hard enough to jerk Clarke’s sex against her thigh. Clarke clicked the remote, sharing the feel of her excitement—Octavia moaning out the pleasure the other two women were too strong to show, gasoline poured on her smoldering fire.

 

The two naked lovers rolled around on the furs, working friction between them until they were slippery with hot sweat, Octavia dancing for them, hips jangling against the shaky pulse hitting her cunt, breasts jiggling in temptation, but Clarke and Lexa only had eyes for each other. Two swollen nipples to suck at was more than enough for Clarke; Lexa’s dripping cunt could take all of Clarke’s fingers.

 

Lexa came like she was gulping in air after nearly drowning, eating after starving, throwing herself into water after she’d been set on fire. Clarke came too, cradled in Lexa’s arms, the Commander’s eyes on her seeming to _expect_ her orgasm like it was proper tribute. Clarke gave it with a weak, flickering grin that was still enough to demand being erased by a kiss.

 

Clarke turned the remote down low, Octavia gasping and moaning vindictiveness because she’d been so close, she’d nearly joined in.

 

“It’s her turn now,” Clarke said. “We can be in control together.”

 

Lexa had the key around her neck. She hadn’t wanted to lose it, not when Octavia was just getting her second wind.

 

They arranged themselves for pleasure, giving and receiving, as though they had done this a hundred times before. Lexa’s lips brushed against the soft hair of Octavia’s cunt. Clarke’s mouth returned to Lexa’s slit. Octavia rested her head on Clarke’s thigh, staring into her pussy as she’d wished to do for quite some time. She thought all of them had wanted to do this for quite some time.

 

Laying on their sides, they formed a triangle, bodies clenching together. Lexa buried her face in Octavia, the other woman groaning with obvious pleasure as Lexa showed her Clarke wasn’t the only woman she knew how to please.

 

Lexa shivered with excitement, swelled with it, experiencing this new, novel taste. And as she flowed, Clarke lapped her up. Lexa undulated her hips, helping Clarke thrust her tongue into her delicious opening, slowing only when her lover caught her clit, bit and chewed on it, made Lexa moan into Octavia’s pussy as hard as she licked at it. And Octavia returned the favor.

 

Hesitant, but eager, Octavia kissed lightly at Clarke. Only once. More than enough to make Clarke groan in approval. Octavia was encouraged to press her mouth into the slick opening, tasting the flavor of the glistening pink flesh, feeling it tighten on her tongue. Finding the taste to her liking. Sucking for more. Burying her kiss inside of Clarke.

 

“Yes, that’s right, that’s just right… You catch on quick!” Clarke moaned, when she wasn’t running her tongue along Lexa’s gloriously wet cunt. Her legs clamped around Octavia’s neck, hips forcing more of her inexperienced tongue into her pussy. She pitied the Commander, and Octavia too. Nothing could possibly taste as good as Lexa. “God, Lexa, you have the hottest little pussy…”

 

Lexa groaned into Octavia’s cunt. “Don’t stop tasting it,” she said simply.

 

None of them had any such intention. Octavia slipped her tongue in and out of Clarke, fucking her with her tongue just as Lexa was doing to her. Clarke locked her lips around Lexa’s sex, trying to suck it into her mouth, taste it forever. She could feel Lexa’s clit throbbing against her teeth as she parted the Commander’s cunt with her tongue.

 

Lexa kept reminding herself that she was eating one woman, being eaten by another. She got more and more excited the longer that was the case. She was still fixated on Clarke, running her hands through hairs that’d been so close to the Sun that now they glowed like it. This was their destiny. Two leaders, ruling together, everyone else playing by their rules…

 

She ran Clarke’s hair through her fingers, one last time, then spread Octavia’s legs open, allowing her to move not only over Octavia’s cunt, but trail down to her asshole. She licked at Octavia’s hole with the juices from her own sex. Then she gave Octavia’s ass a slap to get Clarke’s attention.

 

“I’m putting my finger in her ass,” she told Clarke, still lapping delicately at Octavia’s cunt to keep her warmed, primed. “I’m fucking all of her.”

 

“Do it, baby,” Clarke whimpered.

 

Lexa loved being called that.

 

She rubbed the tips of her fingers around Octavia’s rim, gently pressing her fingertips along the tight opening, getting her forefinger closest, feeling Octavia’s muscles contract to hold her finger as it eased in. They couldn’t stop it. Octavia moaned, not wanting them to. Lexa inched in her middle finger. She slipped both in to the knuckles.

 

“Fuck my ass,” Octavia chanted to Clarke’s sex. “Fuck it, fuck it—“ As she licked at Clarke’s asshole, kissed her cheeks, ran her tongue in and out to make it easier for her fingers.

 

Not to be left out, Clarke toyed at Lexa’s puckered opening as she ate her out. Lexa reached down and grasped her hair firmly.

 

“No. Fingerfuck my cunt. Make me come that way.”

 

Clarke gave Lexa’s hip an apologetic kiss before slipping her fingers inside her the other way, fingering her in rhythm to her tongue battering at Lexa’s clit.

 

Their bodies twisted and strained as the pleasure mounted, Octavia’s hungry mouth covering every inch of Clarke’s pussy, Lexa’s teeth answering Octavia’s demanding cunt as her fingers stroked deeper inside Octavia’s ass. Clarke saw how fast the other two were going and whimpered with envy.

 

“Harder!” she gasped. “Fuck my ass harder!”

 

Octavia did, her chin and throat wet from Clarke’s arousal, hot from it. She rubbed her mouth over Clarke, made her cheeks just as wet, then bared her teeth and gently scraped them over Clarke’s labia. She found Clarke’s clit, tested it with her tongue, her teeth, her lips, her hungry, sucking mouth. It vibrated and throbbed, felt like her own pleasure reaching a breaking point.

 

Their bodies pulled closer together, tighter together, breasts almost touching inside the taut circle as the pleasure became almost agonized. All of them surged and sagged according to their tongues, their fingers, smacks of flesh on sweaty flesh rising to feverish pitch.

 

Still, it was a slow race to climax. Each woman enjoyed the three-way tie.

 

The thunderous rush of Clarke’s orgasm did nothing to slake her hunger, nothing to decrease her pleasure. She continued to suck at Lexa, desperate for more of her, until she was sure she had swallowed every precious drop.

 

That made it her turn. She gave Lexa a last, loving kiss, then pulled her away from Octavia, moved up the furs, threw her knees to either side of Lexa’s face. Lexa’s mouth opened expectantly, her eyes impatient, her entire mien that of a woman waiting to be fed. Clarke slowly settled herself down onto Lexa, finding a questing tongue waiting for her between those open lips.

 

The taste of Clarke after what had seemed like an eternity of feasting on Octavia aroused Lexa like nothing else. When Octavia, hungry for more, crawled between Lexa’s legs, the Commander came in her mouth like she’d been waiting for her.

 

A moment later, Lexa replenished herself from the flood of Clarke’s orgasm, Clarke moaning and sighing so that Lexa found herself even more excited, her orgasm having done nothing to diminish her arousal. Octavia was an attentive enough lover to do something with it, and Lexa came again, so quickly that Octavia thought it was the same orgasm, perhaps even the same pleasure that Clarke was voicing so loudly.

 

Lexa seemed like an eternal spring, a conduit for Clarke’s vocal enjoyment to run through. Whenever she finished, she seemed to absorb new satisfaction directly from Clarke. She sucked furiously on the blonde, wanting Clarke to come endlessly, make her own orgasm last forever. She knew their respites together were only temporarily, inevitably giving way to the pressures and responsibilities of their time apart, but perhaps this time the pleasure would be so great that Time wouldn’t be able to contain it. Their joy would simply go on forever, the two of them shielded from the outside world by nothing more than the love they had for each other.

 

But Clarke finally moaned, drained, and slipped away to collapse on Lexa’s furs, and the Commander was forced to allow the wracking spasms of her orgasm to rob her of all energy. She tilted her pelvis up, like a chalice for Octavia to drink from, and her faithful warrior went with her, devouring all she was given. Until Lexa was as empty as Clarke, sinking into her lover’s arms, trembling and content, greedy Octavia licking her clean.

 

Then all three were satisfied, Clarke and Lexa in their pleasure, Octavia in her submission. They pooled together on the furs, Lexa and Clarke gazing warmly at each other, Octavia sighing at their love for one another. Even here, duty intruded, not matter how lightly. Clarke held Octavia to her, just as she did Lexa, and stroked her, and told her how wonderful she’d been. Lexa didn’t dole out praise so easily, but her soft touch following Clarke’s said enough.

 

And as they grew lazy and comfortable with the dying day, the lowering flames, each came to wonder which would come first. Sleep, or the reemergence of the need they’d just satisfied.

 

***

 

Indra was eying her. Octavia couldn’t help but feel worried about that. She’d thought she had slipped out of the Commander’s tent early enough to avoid bringing any possible shame to them, but still, Indra looked at her. Maybe Indra had used to be the woman Lexa went to for that sort of thing. Maybe she was jealous, or offended, or just angry that Octavia had been honored when she was still half an outsider. And Clarke all an outsider, but that hadn’t stopped Lexa from giving her a permanent berth in the tent. Christ, no wonder Indra was pissed—

 

Indra looked away. Octavia followed her gaze. Saw Lexa inspecting some troops from the Ice People, seeing if their weapons were being maintained. Octavia looked back. Now Indra was coming right at her.

 

The warrior clasped Octavia’s shoulder proudly. “You have done well, Octavia of the Tree People. The Commander looks well satisfied.”

  
Octavia nodded, hoping the war paint hid her blush.

 

She was pretty proud of herself.


End file.
